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EBBA 30905

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
The Squires Grief Crownd with Comfort:
OR,
Nectar preferrd before Scornfull Cynthia,
To the Tune of Let the Soldiers rejoyce. Licensed according to Order

ARe the Fates so unkind,
As to keep me confind,
Debarrd of all Free----dom and Pleasure?
For the young Charming Saint,
Neer regards my Complaint,
But denys me, denys me the Fountain of Pleasure.

Im catchd in the Snare,
Of a Beauty so fair,
Whom all the whole Wor----ld will admire;
At her Feet when I bow,
Not a Smile shell allow,
But she leaves me, she leaves me, to burn with de-sire.

When I tell her of Love,
That I prize none above
Fair Cynthia my A----morous Jewel;
She returns me her Frown,
Which dos quite run me down;
Oh! was ever, was ever a Creature so cruel!

When her Eyes I beheld,
With Raptures I swelld
To gain her I u----sd my endeavour;
But yet all was in vain,
I might sigh and complain.
She denyd me, denyd me the Blessing for ever.

Being clearly denyd;
I in sorrow replyd,
Whom Beauty a----lone hath invited,
Is rejected at last,
This my Glory doth blast,
Oh! was ever was, ever young Lover so slighted?

Thus with sorrow opprest,
And denyd of all rest,
I started when e----er I did slumber,
For my sorrows were more,
Then the sands on the shore,
For I tell you, I tell you, they were out of m[?]

But at length I took Heart,
And defended the Dart,
And with a good F----ace I can carry it,
And solemnly declare,
Theres no Cynthia so fair,
As a Bottle, a Bottle of delicate Claret.

This my Joys will restore,
Ill regard her no more,
Nor trouble my Nod----dle about her,
For my Heart is at ease,
I can love when I please,
Therefore tell her, now tell her I can love wi[?]


Printed for P. Brooksby. J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Back.

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